


Kissing Lessons

by wingthing



Series: The EQ Alternaverse [5]
Category: Elfquest
Genre: EQ Alternaverse, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 15:32:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4671878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingthing/pseuds/wingthing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Wolfriders ally with the Go-Backs, to fight for the Palace of the High Ones. Pike teaches the Go-Backs all about kissing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kissing Lessons

“Forget it, troll!” the hooded elf growled, stabbing the troll in the throat as he leapt at their stag. “You’ve killed your last elf.” 

Sitting in front of the snow elf astride the stag, Swift barely saw the troll, or heard his death cry. She held Rayek’s cold body in her arms, whispering comforting words to the comatose hunter. The stag raced across the snow, away from the battle. Other stags ran alongside Swift’s. Skywise and the twins were riding with the female elf who seemed to be their leader. Dewshine was being carried away from the fray by the wounded Tyldak. Clearbrook and One-Eye were visible on another stag. Swift could only trust that the other Wolfriders were safe as well. 

“Rayek,” she whispered. “Rayek, stay with me. Stay alive.” 

Treestump was dead. She had seen him fall, taking the blow from the troll’s mace that had been meant for One-Eye. Rayek was dying, struck in the abdomen by a giant spear. He had bled so much already – his red jacket was saturated in blood, shiny and sticky to the touch, coating Swift’s hands in blood. 

Suddenly they pulled up to a halt outside a lodge buried into the snow-covered hillside. The elf behind her dismounted and a moment later she felt a hand at her back, helping her slide down from the saddle. 

**Tam!** Skywise was at her side. He caught Rayek’s legs and they both eased the hunter off the stag’s back. A thick trail of blood covered the deer’s shoulders where Rayek had brushed against it. 

“Skot!” the strange chieftess barked to the elf who had ridden with Swift. He doffed his hood to reveal a mess of dark brown hair and scowling face. “Find Yif and Krim and get them to their perches. See they sniff around for new tunnels.” 

“Let me back at them, Kahvi!” he barked, leering with bloodlust. “We’ll make them pay–” 

“Not today, Skot. Now, get to your lookout! It would be just like those reeking trolls to to worm under our floors while we were out killing their kin.” 

Swift looked around at the other elves, trying to find the healer. Strongbow was carrying a semi-conscious Moonshade. Pike was riding up on Hotburr. “Rain!” Swift cried, her voice raw. “Rain!” 

“Here, my chief!” Rain raced towards her. 

“Hmph,” Kahvi sneered, looking at Rayek. “That one’s nearly bled white – and that’s saying something! Better dump him. He’ll be dead before you get him inside, anyway.” 

“He’s our chief’s lifemate!” Skywise shouted. 

“I’m not leaving him!” Swift cried. 

“I can heal him!” Rain shouted. 

“You... a healer!” Kahvi sneered. “Phaugh, that’s all we need. Well, all right.” She ushered them into the lodge. “He can lie on my sleep furs. The Great Ice Wall knows they’ve been stained before with warrior’s blood.” 

Skywise and Swift carried Rayek deep into the lodge and Kahvi drew the curtain of her bed back. The moment they set him down on the mattress Rain set to work, placing his hands over the wound and saturating it with healing energy. 

“Father...” Dewshine murmured weakly as Tyldak set her down on the hearthstones, ignoring the suspicious glowers from the snow elves. “Father’s dead...” 

**I’m so sorry, Lree,** he sent. But she seemed not to hear him. 

 

“He’s worse!” Swift snapped at Rain. “Barely breathing! Why can’t you–” 

“Quiet!” Rain snapped back. So much time and blood lost, he thought. Damned Blackhair – why didn’t he let me begin the moment he was hurt? 

The twins, Venka and Suntop, covered against the curtain, hugging each other tight. Skywise sat at Swift’s side, holding her hand as she held Rayek’s. **He’s strong, Tam. He’ll pull through.** 

**He has to.** 

The torment continued for several long minutes. Sweat beaded Rain’s brow. At length he lifted his hand. The wound had healed to a purplish bruise. “Done!” Rain exclaimed wearily. 

“He will live?” Swift asked. “Oh, Rayek!” she threw herself against his chest and wept for joy. 

Rayek moaned softly. His eyelids flickered, and he sank into a deep healing sleep. The cubs edged closer to the bed and stared into their father’s expressionless face, their fear not yet allayed. 

Rain got to his feet. “There are others who need my help. I must tend to the tribe, chieftess.” 

Swift lifted her head. The tribe. “Yes...” she nodded. “Yes... I am coming. I must see my tribe.” 

Skywise’s hand touched her shoulder. “You go, Swift. The twins and I will keep watch over Rayek.” 

She smiled weakly. **Thank you, Fahr.** 

Swift struggled to stand, then limped after Rain. In the smoky lodge the Wolfriders huddled near the hearth, tending their wounds. Strongbow wrapped Moonshade’s cut arm tightly in soft leather while Shale offered the battle-dazed Eyes High a bowl of hot broth. Dewshine continued to stare dully at the ground. 

“Swift,” Nightfall leapt up as Redlance was trying to wash the cuts to her face and shoulder. “Is Rayek?” 

“He is sleeping now,” Swift murmured. “He will live.” 

“Thank the High Ones,” Nightfall breathed. “We have already lost too much...” 

Suddenly Dewshine sprang to her feet, her eyes wide. “What is this place?” she screamed. “My father – where is he?” 

“Dewshine!” Tyldak cried, but she was already running for the doorway of the lodge. 

“Rotten fish guts!” the snow chieftess shouted. “She’s gone crazy. Go get her, bird-elf, before the trolls do!” 

“Hey, you!” Skot shouted as Dewshine ran past him, into the roaring blizzard. “Ayooah,” she called. “Trollhammer!” Instantly she was on her wolf-friend’s back, riding into the blizzard, towards the scene of battle. 

“Dewshine!” Tyldak cried into the blizzard. He looked back at Swift. “I... I cannot fly in this weather.” 

“Pike, Scouter!” Swift barked. “Find her. Bring her back.” 

“Right!” Pike nodded. “Come on, Scouter.” 

They rushed past Tyldak, and the bird-elf shot out his hand to catch Scouter’s wrist. “Bring her back,” he whispered. “Please. Bring her back to me.” 

Scouter glared into Tyldak’s brown eyes. The hurt still stung him, that Dewshine had Recognized this strange elf – more, that Dewshine seemed to be falling in love with him too. How could she? Tyldak was an abomination – an elf as graceful and beautiful as a High One, but with with huge bat wings sprouting from his shoulders, their shadows darkening his long bronze hair. He had let that witch Winnowill mould his body like river clay to turn himself into some twisted hybrid. Scouter could not look at him without thinking of Madcoil. 

Or was it only his jealousy talking? He had expected Dewshine to turn away from Tyldak the moment they had consummated their Recognition. But she had clung to him, and he to her. He had left the Gliders to become Dewshine’s lifemate. He had stayed by her side when the trolls had killed Lord Voll and the other Gliders had fled in fear. Now that Treestump was dead, would Tyldak be the one to comfort Dewshine? 

He held his resentful gaze a moment longer, then lowered his eyes and nodded. He could not deny the love in Tyldak’s eyes. He understood that kind of love. 

He turned and followed Pike into the storm. 

 

Pike and Scouter rode on Hotburr, followed closely by Skot on stagback, and One-Eye astride Smoketreader. At last they arrived at the scene of battle. The spears and sword littered the ground. Blood, elf and troll, stained the snow. And at the center of the fray was Lionskin, howling for her dead elf-friend. 

“He’s not here,” Pike whispered. 

“Trolls,” the snow elf shrugged. “They don’t waste time. Or anything else.” 

“What do you mean?” Scouter glared up at him. “What – are they going to... eat him?” He felt sick. 

“Wait...” Pike sprang off Hotburr’s back. “Scouter. I need your eyes. Look at this.” 

The falling snow made it hard to see, but when Scouter squinted he saw a path in the snow, the kind made by a dragged body. Little footprints moved alongside the path, too small to be made by a troll. The tracks disappeared, as did the smudge in the snow, and lupine footprints took their place. 

“Dewshine!” Scouter exclaimed. “She took the body. She loaded it... I mean him... on Trollhammer.” 

“Where did she go?” 

“Into that!” Scouter pointed into the darkness of the blizzard. 

“This gale’s getting worse,” the snow elf said. “We’ll never find her until it lets up.” 

A wolf waded out of the shadows, and they turned expectantly. “Bristlebrush,” Scouter cried. “I thought they had killed you too. Have you seen Trollhammer? Do you know where Dewshine went?” 

Bristlebrush, limping from his torn tendons, could only shrug. 

Pike mounted Hotburr and tried to scent Dewshine on the air. The wind was too strong, and he smelled nothing but the crisp snow. Hotburr paced around the stag, and Skot shouted down “Hey! Call off your wolf!” 

“Why?” Pike looked up at the snow elf. “If that deer’s healthy, what’s your worry?” 

Skot growled something and hitched his collar higher against his chin. “Enough!” he shouted to the other elves. “We can’t see worth spit in this storm!” 

“He’s right,” One-Eye said. “We should go back to the snow elves’ camp. This storm cannot last long at this strength. Then we can look for Dewshine. This cold is killing our scent – we’d be just as likely to get lost ourselves as to find her.” 

“She won’t answer my sendings!” Scouter cried. “Dewshine!” 

 

Dewshine slipped her father’s heavy body off Trollhammer’s back and dragged it under the lip of the cave mouth. She had rode her wolf as far into the storm as she dared, but at length the sleet freezing around her hood snapped her from her grief and she realized she had to seek shelter. She lay her father down on his back and retreated deeper into the little cave, until her feet touched bare rock. Then she sat down and drew her knees to her chest, and wept. 

Her father was dead. 

How? She had turned her back for just a moment as she had been fighting her own troll. She had not seen the troll sneak up on One-Eye’s blind side, had not seen Treestump lunge forward to take the death-blow. Only when he had hit the ground, his skull cracked, blood pooling on his scalp, had she turned and seen him. 

Why had he saved One-Eye? Why had he sacrificed himself? One-Eyes’s children were grown. Moonsbreath had children and grandchildren. Scouter had a mother to watch over him. But Dewshine was all alone now. A motherless, fatherless cub, now with her own cub growing inside her. She needed her father. And he was gone. Now she had no one. 

Tyldak... 

She moaned miserably. How could she think of Tyldak now? But he was lodged in her soul and would not be banished. 

**You must let me go now, Tyldak,** she had told him after their joining. **I belong with my own people.** 

**No. I cannot let you go, Lree,** he sent back. **I thought I could, but now... stay with me, Lree. I cannot lose you.** 

**I am a Wolfrider. I can never be anything else.** But even as she sent it, she suddenly wished she could transform herself into a Glider and stay with him in the strange labyrinth of Blue Mountain forever. 

**Then let me fly with you. There is nothing for me here in Blue Mountain. It is nothing but a hollow shell without you.** 

**We agreed... we would not become lifemates.** 

**Once we agreed we would not give in to Recognition. Could we not be wrong twice?** 

Dewshine hesitated. What of Scouter? What of the love she had once played at with him? But she knew now it could not compare with the soul-sharing she had with Tyldak. She knew him inside and out. She was a part of him, and he of her. 

And now they would have a cub together. How could she deny him a chance to know his child? How could she deny him the family Blue Mountain had kept him from ever having? 

That conversation had taken place more than an eight of days earlier, but still Dewshine was tormented by it. She had all but called Tyldak “lifemate”, but something held her back. And now with her father dead, she had no idea what to do. 

She heard murmurs and humming coming from behind her. 

She turned, reaching for her dagger, expecting a troll. Instead, as her eyes adjusted to the dim light in the cave, she saw a little elf crouched in the corner. 

“Humm, hmmm, hmmm,” he murmured to himself. “Oh yes... oh yes... this one remembers you... Greymung. How long now... years and years... but I remember you. From the warts beneath your eyes to your twisted gobbling mouth... oh yes.” 

“Hello?” Dewshine called, edging closer. Now she could see the fur-wrapped elf was doing something to the rock – he was shaping it! A faint glow of magic illuminated the cave wall, and she saw a portrait of the gross and decadent troll blossom on the cold stone. 

“Ah,” the elf turned, revealing a face weathered by storms and age, with pronounced cheekbones and huge brown eyes. “Oh...” he frowned. “I don’t remember you. Do I know you? It’s so hard sometimes to remember all the new faces.” 

“Are you... one of the snow elves... the ones who live in the camp buried in the mountainside?” Dewshine asked. 

“Ohh, are you a new elf? From a new place? I always dreamed more would come here, called by the Palace.” 

“My... my name is Dewshine.” 

“Hello, hello, welcome Dewshine! I... my name is... uh... eh... Ekuar!” he remembered. “I shape rock. Oh,” he glanced past Dewshine. “Who is that sleeping there?” 

Dewshine lowered her head. “He’s not sleeping. That’s my father. The trolls killed him.” 

“Ohh,” Ekuar sighed. “Yes.... I’ve lost many friends, many many friends to the trolls over the years. So many years...” 

“Your hand,” Dewshine gasped. His right hand was missing its middle finger. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. A present from Greymung years ago. No, don’t look at me with pity. I am free from the trolls. Kahvi and the Go-Backs set me free long... long ago.” 

“Kahvi....” 

“Ah, she’s the beautiful one with the huge hood and the cold green eyes. You must have seen her.” 

Dewshine then remembered the woman who had saved them. “Yes.” 

“I was once a slave of the trolls. They took me when they took the Palace... so long ago. Took my finger too. But I survived, yes, Greymung, I did! And now I am free. But what of you? Where do you come from? Were you a slave of the trolls too?” 

Dewshine shook her head. She sat down and slowly began to tell him about the Wolfriders and their quest for the Palace. She left out the Gliders, the giant hawks, and most of all Tyldak, in her tale, though she was scarcely aware of it. Still, by the end she was weeping for more than her dead father. 

“Poor little thing,” Ekuar patted her blond curls. “Poor little fawn. The hurt won’t stay. The tears will stop, you’ll see.” 

“I don’t think they will. My life is so... so confused now.” 

Ekuar only patted her head again. “Storms always end, you’ll see. Trust an old elf like me.” 

 

Rayek’s eyelids flickered. “Swift... Swift!” he cried, opening his eyes. 

“I am here, my love,” Swift whispered, at his side in a moment. 

“Suntop? Venka?” 

“Look there, beside you. They are asleep.” 

Rayek turned, and smiled to see his cubs fast asleep against the covers. He tried to sit up and winced at the pain in his abdomen. 

“Still hurts?” 

“Yes... but... I will survive,” he hissed, straightening. “I must commend Rain on his skills.” 

“Well now!” a tall elf-woman with a heavy fur hat pulled aside the curtain and stepped into the little room. “How are you this day, pretty brownskin? Back among the living? Mmm,” she appraised his bared chest. “Spear holes all closed up, I see.” 

“Who?” Rayek wrinkled his nose. 

“Rayek, this is Kahvi,” Swift introduced. “Chief of the Go-Backs, the elves who rescued us.” 

“Elves?” Rayek turned to Swift in disbelief. “Will you never stop finding us more elves?” 

“More like we found you, brownskin,” Kahvi laughed lustily. “Have to grant you, though, your folk fight like three times their number... all save one, of course.” 

“Someone has died...” Rayek murmured. “No... not the old bear, Treestump.” 

“Cheer up,” Kahvi shrugged. “Considering the odds, I’m surprised any of you made it. I almost feel sorry for the trolls. Mmm, your lifemate, eh Swift? No wonder you made such a fuss about having him healed.” She turned and parted the curtain. “Young... good shoulders... nice muscle tone... tell me,” she called as she drew the curtain back behind her. “Do you share?” 

“No!” Swift snapped harshly. 

Kahvi laughed and disappeared back into the main lodge. 

Rayek scowled. “What a thoroughly disagreeable creature.” 

 

“Swift!” Pike called. “We found her! We’ve got Dewshine.” 

Swift rushed out as Pike and Scouter entered the lodge. Behind them followed Tyldak, able to join to the search now that the weather had improved. He kept one arm and one wing around Dewshine, who stumbled down the steps as if in a trance. 

“Dewshine!” Swift embraced her. “High Ones, cousin, what were you thinking? You could have been lost in the storm, and your baby too. Don’t ever do that again. I’ve lost one tribemate, I won’t lose another.” 

“Sister,” Eyes High hastened to her side. “How are you?” 

“Ekuar!” Kahvi barked. “About time you reappeared, you blasted rockshaper!” 

“She found Treestump’s body,” Pike whispered to Swift. “We brought it back. He deserves a proper howl. We tried to find Woodshaver, but he was gone. The trolls must like the taste of wolf.” 

“Monsters,” Swift whispered. 

“How is Rayek?” 

“He’ll be fine in another day or two – Rayek!” she spun around as Rayek stumbled out from the bedchamber and struggled to put on his bloodstained jacket. “What are you doing out of bed? Give me that jacket – it’s in no fit shape to be worn. Go back and sleep. You haven’t finished healing yet.” 

“Come with me,” he whispered, his voice still a little hoarse. “I... don’t want to lose sight of you.” 

Swift turned back to her tribemates. “Go,” Eyes High said. “You’ve been on your feet all day and night, chieftess. We elders can keep watch while you rest.” 

“Dewshine,” Swift touched her cousin’s chin. “Dewshine, listen to me. We will howl for your father when the sun sets, just like we would if we were home in the forest. You are not alone. We will all take care of you.” 

Dewshine nodded miserably. 

Swift turned sadly as followed Rayek back into the bedchamber. The twins were just beginning to stir, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. “Father!” Venka exclaimed delightly when she saw him on his feet. 

“Hello, little one,” he smiled, ruffling her hair until static made it stand on end. “Your mother has ordered me back to bed. Augh, Patch,” he groaned as the little wolf-pup greeted him with a lick. 

Suntop giggled, and Rayek responded with a little flick to his nose. “Come on, Venka,” Suntop laughed. “Let’s go find Skywise and let Mother and Father sleep.” 

Venka was already scrambling off the bed, Patch in tow. Swift smiled as she watched them disappear under the curtain. To be a cub again. Yawning, she kicked off her boots and unlaced her jacket before lying down on the soft bed next to her lifemate. Almost immediately she was lost in the oblivion of sleep. 

 

The Wolfriders lay Treestump to rest on a snowdrift deep in the forest grove just away from the Go-Back’s lodge. They gathered around the body and howled mournfully, joined by their wolves. Rayek stood slightly to the side, uncertain as always during the howls. After seven years it still seemed... wrong somehow, and he continued to be the outsider. 

Tyldak stood some distance away, even more the outsider, watching the mourning ritual. He heard footsteps on snow and turned to see Kahvi standing at his side. 

“Who made your wings, beautiful bird?” 

“Someone I hope you will never meet.” 

Kahvi examined the thongs tying his jacket closed about the wings at his shoulderblades. “So, you’re the lovemate of the little golden-haired one with the feathers on her hood, eh?” 

“Yes... no... I do not know what I am to her.” 

“Well, do you join with her or not?” 

“It is complicated. It is Recognition.” 

“Recog-what? Oh... yes, that. They still bother with that, do they? My folk have been breeding without it since before we called ourselves Go-Backs.” 

“It shows,” was Tyldak’s clipped remark. 

Clearbrook stepped forward, standing at the head of Treestump’s body. “Treestump. You saved my One-Eye’s life. You did so without thought to your own. I will always remember you for that.” She reached up and pulled her long braid forward over her shoulder. “We will miss you. May your spirit always run with us.” She drew her sword and cut through the braid, chopping her hair to jaw-length. Then she lay her braid over Treestump’s chest. 

One-Eye came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “You will never be forgetten, dear friend.” 

Dewshine turned away from the scene, unable to bear her grief. She saw Tyldak standing in the trees, watching her. 

 

Days passed, as Wolfriders and Go-Backs began to prepare for battle. Skywise and Strongbow brought down a snowbear with the wolves. Redlance tried to shape bows and spears out of the soft pine that grew near the lodge. Clearbrook and One-Eye practiced daily with the new Go-Back weapons, intent on avenging Treestump’s death. Dewshine remained in the lodge, uninterested in anything. Swift brooded at the thought of going back into battle and losing more tribemembers. Only the cubs were free of worry, and the chieftess drew strength from their innocent delight. 

Rayek joined Swift on the hillside as Suntop and Venka pelted each other with snowballs. Patch leapt up at Rayek, and Rayek caught the pup to hold him away from his face. “Ohh, you’re as bad as that blasted Petalwing,” he laughed, putting the pup back on the ground as Suntop rolled on the snow, convulsed with laughter. 

Just then Venka’s snowball hit him square in the jaw. Rayek glared at her, then bent down and scooped up his own snowball. Venka let out a shriek and ran, but Rayek outpaced her in three strides and tackled her to the ground. As the cub laughed and squealed, he proceeded to stuff the snowball right down her back. 

“Eee, help! Help! Nastybad High-Digdig!” a highpitched voice cut through the air. 

“Petalwing!” Swift turned. 

“What has that blasted bug gotten into now?” Rayek raised his spear. 

A dark shadow stepped out from behind the rocks and they recoiled at the sight of Two-Edge, the misshapen elf-troll hybrid. Winnowill’s son. 

“Two-Edge!” Swift shouted. “Let the bug go – now!” 

“Go in, go under,” Two-Edge laughed. “The Moon Sword must cross over. To part its part it must go in, go under and stab the Mountain’s heart.” 

“You!” Rayek growled. “Was it you who shot down Lord Voll? Are you and Winnowill plotting new games to win Blue Mountain and the Palace together?” 

“Paugh!” Two-Edge sneered. “She’s worthless here. Powerless. Play with me, Palace-seeker. Go down, down into the ground!” 

Suddenly the snow underfoot fell away. Rayek hovered, but Swift dropped into the darkness. 

“Mother!” Venka cried. 

“Swift!” 

 

Swift tumbled down the rocky tunnel, until she hit the ground with a heavy thud. She got to her knees and found herself face to face with a snarling trio of starving mountain wolves. Her breath caught in her chest as they sniffed her, trying to decide whether the strange creature was a fellow wolf, or a meal. 

Swift froze, trying to remain calm as the alpha female licked her arm, then sniffed her hair. She looked up at the glimmer of light from the skylight high above. Rayek... she thought. He would be coming any moment, she could already smell his distinctive scent. But would his presence only incite the wolves to attack? 

A rancid smell tickled her nose and she heard the voices of trolls. A light appeared above the pit. “Well... well... let’s have a look...” the troll peered into the pit. “Heh... look at that little slip of a point-ears. Hah, we caught a female... aww... but not the green-eyed one.” 

“They sure are ugly females, are they?” another troll asked. “I don’t know how those scrawny things ever find men.” 

“Ah, the elf men seem to like those ugly things. Heh... look at that – too scared to scream.” 

“Why don’t they just eat her? We made sure to starve ‘em.” 

**Rayek?** Swift called. 

**One moment more, Tam.** 

“Stupid,” the chief troll laughed. “Don’t you know wolves have rank and order, same as we do? They’re just waiting for the big gray to take the first bite, they are.” 

“Wormwater! They’re just dumb beasts.” 

“Care to bet something on it?” 

“You’re on!” 

Swift felt herself rise above the ground. The wolves growled suspiciously, but the trolls had already started to throw their little gems into the betting circle. She drew New Moon, ready to attack. She floated above the lip off the pit, and she lashed out with her sword. Suddenly she swung wildly in the air, not towards Rayek and safety, but straight into the trolls. 

**Rayek!** she sent as she touched the ground, right in the middle of the trolls. **Would it have been too much trouble to float me out on your side?** She kicked one troll straight into the wolfpit, and grappled with another. 

**Why, Tam,** Rayek sent as he lay on the edge of the pit. **I thought you’d like a chance to get even!** 

**You thought? You thought!?** 

Rayek inspected his nails. **Be thorough, beloved. If even one escapes, he’ll alert the entire army.** 

“You want to see “thorough”? Here’s thorough!!” she slit another troll’s throat, then pivoted and kicked the third one down the pit as well. The fourth troll took off while Swift was distracted. He ran for his life, not daring to look back, and so did not see Rayek take aim with his spear. The spear caught the troll in the back and the green-skinned creature collapsed to the ground. 

“Well, that’s done,” Rayek landed at the fallen troll and pulled out his spear. 

“Small thanks to you,” Swift groaned, sheathing her sword. She turned on him, and Rayek smiled disarmingly. 

“My love, you know I never would have let them actually hurt you.” 

“Mmm,” she stalked up to him. “I should be thankful for that, I suppose.” She caught a handful of his black hair and pulled him against her, then kissed him long on the lips. 

“You’re a zwoot’s ass,” she pronounced when they parted. 

 

Dewshine stared down at the snow. The forest had claimed Treestump, and a fresh snowfall had disguised any signs of his remains, or Clearbrook’s long braid. 

“Tyldak...” she murmured, not turning to look over her shoulder. “When an elf died in Blue Mountain... how did you... how did the Gliders...?” 

“It’s... been so long since any elves ever died. But we would lie the Glider out, mourn him, then get a rockshaper to open up a section of the mountain and seal him up in the rock. Then... we would go on.” 

“Forget about them.” 

Tyldak smiled wanly. “Death terrified us.” 

“It terrifies me too.” 

“Lree...” 

Dewshine turned. “I’m all alone now.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“My mother died years ago. She was deaf. She didn’t hear a branch snap above her head as she was fishing by the riverside. Now my father is gone.” 

“You still have a family. Your sister, Eyes High–” 

“She’s only my half-sister,” Dewshine shrugged. “That’s not to say we don’t care for each other... but... we were never a family living in one den or anything. I never knew her mother. We were... more like cousins than sisters.” 

“What of your cousin – what of Swift?” 

Dewshine shook her head. “She was barely past two-eights when she became chieftess, but she rose to the challenge. Me... I’m three-eights and two, but I’m still a little cub. We are so unalike... I doubt we could understand each other.” 

“I understand you.” 

Dewshine smiled wanly. 

“I know you, Lree. We are Recognized. Why do you hold me at arm’s length?” 

Lree. At Blue Mountain he had called her Lree aloud, and Winnowill had heard it. Dewshine still remembered the agony as she heard Winnowill speak her soulname. And she had blamed Tyldak for it. She never wanted to hear her soulname on his lips ever again. 

Perhaps it was the simply the call of Recognition that made her long to hear it now. Or was it something else? 

Dewshine touched her stomach. “I still can’t sense the cubling. I can’t really believe I’ll be a mother in two turns. It... seemed so simple. We would join, we would part ways. Scouter and Father and I would raise the cub as a Wolfrider. How was I to know I would....” Again she looked away. 

Tyldak touched her shoulder. Dewshine could not bring herself to look up at him, but she leaned against him for support, almost against her will. 

 

“War! War! War!” the Go-Backs chanted madly. “Before we spill our blood in battle – let’s feel it pound in our veins!” 

“Dance!” Kahvi cried as she threw off her heavy hat, revealing long ragged brown hair. “Dance, warriors! Life gets no sweeter than this!” 

As the protesting children were led away to the upper level of the lodge by the adolescent Go-Backs, the warriors tore off their clothes with wild abandon. The Go-Backs caught dancing partners and pulled them down to the floor. The Wolfriders sought out their lovemates and lifemates and retreated to shadowed alcoves. Frenetic drumbeats filled the heavy air of the lodge, and swaying shadows darted on the walls in the uncertain firelight. 

“Let’s see what you look like without this, frostymane!” one Go-Back laughed as she adeptly pulled off Skywise’s faceguard. “And this!” another tugged at his tunic. The stargazer stumbled and laughed and almost fell over backwards under their attack. 

“Peace, sisters, peace!” a half-naked Go-Back maiden, her shaggy light-brown hair held back with a woven leather headband. “There’s plenty enough of this one to go around.” 

“M-mardu?” Skywise stammered, unaccustomed to seeing the Go-Back scout in anything less than several pounds of furs and leathers. 

Mardu laughed at his expression of delighted surprise, then firmly shoved him down onto the pile of furs. 

“Come on, this way!” Swift laughed, pulled Rayek behind the deerskin curtain. She laced the curtains shut behind him, until the drumbeats grew ever-so-slightly muted. 

“Kahvi’s bed?” Rayek laughed incredulously. 

“Why not? She seems to like the open floor better anyway.” 

“What if she comes looking for her furs?” 

“Do you really care what Kahvi thinks?” Swift asked, then kissed him roughly before he could answer. 

Pike sank back against the warm rocks of the hearth. Vaya stood, her smile one of eminent self-satisfaction, and coyly draped a tail of fur over her shoulder. Pike flashed her his lost-puppy smile and tried to catch her wrist. But Vaya danced back. “Be right back,” she teased. “Don’t go anywhere.” 

Pike sighed wistfully as he watched Vaya disappear into the melee. He hoped she was coming back with some of that strong Go-Back brew made from the little berries so unlike dreamberries, but with a punch the throat didn’t expect. Several hands reached out for Vaya, and she dodged between cajoling suitors, dismissing them with the same smile. 

He hoped she wouldn’t get distracted too many times on the way back. 

Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned his head to find himself staring into a pair of rich brown eyes that shone with a rakish fire – or was it the reflection from the hearthfire? 

Pike drew back to better appraise the naked young Go-Back lad who was sizing him up in turn. What was his name? Pike’s foggy memory struggled to place the handsome elf. Surely it wasn’t Skot – the fur-bundled boy who had shouted at Hotburr so many days ago. 

“Hey, Pike,” Skot smiled. “You know, Vaya was telling us about that mouth-to-mouth thing you Wolfriders do.” 

Pike’s eyes lit up, and Vaya was instantly forgotten. “You mean kissing?” 

“That’s it,” Skot slid closer across the furs. “I was thinking... maybe you could give out lessons.” 

“Ayooah,” Pike muttered to himself, gazing deep into Skot’s eyes. 

 

Dewshine listened to the sounds filtering through the heavy deerskin curtains. She supposed she ought to be grateful that she and Tyldak had the only other bed besides Kahvi’s. The last thing she wanted was to sit in the corner and watch the whirling dance. 

“Dewshine?” Tyldak asked. “What are you thinking?” 

She didn’t look over her shoulder. “I ought to be going out with them tomorrow. I’ve fought before. I’m good with a bow and I’m very fast.” 

“Dewshine! You’re carrying a cub. Of course you aren’t going out. You heard Swift – we aren’t so short of warriors that we will risk children or lifebearers!” 

“Maybe I’d like to forget about that. I want to go out there. I want to kill the trolls who killed my father. I want to be... strong.” 

“I’m sure your father would not want you to endanger your cub for his sake.” 

“A very... expected speech.” 

He wrapped his wing forward around her, and Dewshine found she didn’t flinch when the wing-claw touched her shoulder. “I don’t want you going out there. And not just because of the cub. I never want you in danger again. I know you are strong. You don’t need battle to prove this – to me, to the tribe, to anyone.” 

“You don’t understand, Tyldak. You’ve been in Blue Mountain for so long. You don’t know what it means to be live in the forest, to face danger every day and know that to shrink from it only makes you weak and useless as a treewee. Were I to hide in a cave like a sick fawn out of fear, I would waste away. I’m not a caged bird from Blue Mountain.” 

**No, Lree. You’re like... like the wind. I know I could never try to hold you in a cage.** 

“I... I will do everything I can to protect our cub. But I won’t deny my nature. I will be scratching at the walls all day tomorrow. And if... High Ones forbid, the battles does not go well – if Swift needs every warrior possible, then I will go, and I will take the risk, because risk is what keeps us alive. And later... after the war, after we have won the Palace, after my child is born – I will not sit in a den and spend my days idle and safe. Nor will I hold my cub close when he wants to run free.” 

Tyldak was silent, and Dewshine turned towards him. “Could you accept that? Or would you try to keep us both locked away, safe, like precious statues?” 

“I want to see the world through your eyes, beloved.... if you will let me.” 

“Tyldak...” she melted against him. “I don’t know what to do anymore.” She fingered a strand of his golden-brown hair. “Everything has changed.” She looked up at him pleadingly. “What will we do?” 

He bent his head and kissed her gently on the lips. 

“Mmm,” Dewshine smiled sadly. “You’re getting better at that.” And she kissed him back. 

 

**Joinings mean much or little, my gentle one,** Nightfall sent to her lifemate. **But this parting might mean... forever. You guard the cubs... I go to war. But I must stay with you.** 

**Nightfall?** Redlance began to ask. 

**There is one way, beloved. Twen, I am Twen. Twen.** 

Redlance stared at her in shock. He had no words. With tears in her eyes, Nightfall turned. This wasn’t how she had wanted it. They were meant to learn each others soulnames, but not like this. Not now, not for this reason. 

Slowly Nightfall moved away, to join the other warriors. 

**Twen!** Redlance called. 

Nightfall turned back. 

**Ulm. I am Ulm.** 

Nightfall almost broke right there, almost burst into tears, almost ran back into his arms. She bit her lip to hold her composure. **Ulm,** she repeated. **I will return.** 

“Good hunting, cousin,” Dewshine struggled to keep her voice level. “Redlance, Tyldak and I will take good care of the twins. And... should you need me...” 

“Don’t even think of it. You are staying here where it is safe, and we will be coming home before you know it.” 

Dewshine nodded with resignation. 

Swift bent down to accept New Moon, which Venka held up with shaking hands. “I’m not afraid... Mother...” she whispered. “See?” Behind her, Suntop stared up with huge, liquid eyes. 

Swift took the sword and tucked it into her belt. She smiled down at her children, then sank to her knees and wrapped them up in a strong hug. Venka could not longer hold back her tears, nor could Suntop. Swift kissed them both on their foreheads. “Your Father and I will be back before sundown,” she said, praying it was the truth. “Don’t you worry.” 

“We won’t,” Venka sniffled. 

Suntop nodded silently. 

Rayek bent down to embrace his children in turn, then the two lifemates turned to join the ranks of warriors streaming out of the lodge. 

“Paugh,” Kahvi sneered. “You let them go soft, blubbering like that.” 

Swift wiped at the first pricks of tears. “You have your Way, we have ours.” 

“Let us hope your Way has more than just kissing to its credit. You fought like three times your number the day Treestump died. If you fight like that today we might just survive this day.” 

We just might survive, Dewshine repeated to herself as she watched her kin disappear into the white-out. 

 

“I’m sooo bored,” a little Go-Back sighed miserably. “I’m old enough, why couldn’t I go out to fight and die like the other warriors.” 

He couldn’t be much older than eight-and-three, Dewshine thought. How could he look forward to deadly combat? He still had years of growing up to do, years of lessons, years of experience. Yet she had seen children not much older than that boy go to war. 

“My friends and agemates went to war. Why do I have to sit here? It's not fair!” 

These Go-Backs sent children to die. They taught children to look forward to death. Would the Go-Backs who survived the war feel deprived because they didn’t meet a glorious death? 

Was this how Tyldak saw the Wolfriders? She glanced across the room at the bird-elf, who leaned against the wall, his wings folded across his chest like a shield, as if to protect himself from the suspicious stares of the Go-Back youths. 

**We Wolfriders don’t welcome death,** she sent to him. **We aren’t like the Go-Backs.** 

He smiled faintly. **But you could still die, and our... your cub too.* 

**Elves die in Blue Mountain too, just... so slowly they don’t even know it.** She paused a moment, then: **Our cub will live... and he will thrive.** 

**He?** Tyldak’s eyes lit up. **Is it a son?** 

Dewshine blushed. ** I... don’t know. Not yet. Does it matter?** 

**Of course not, Lree. Son or daughter, I will cherish our cub... if you will let me.** 

Dewshine smiled. She averted her eyes for a moment, then glanced back at him shyly. 

She nodded. 

 

“Vaya....” Pike whimpered, his voice pained, as he fell back, his shoulder pierced by a troll’s spear. As he lost his hold on the elf, she was dragged back by the trolls, back into the slave pit. Pike sagged against the supporting arms of One-Eye and Skywise, as the troll who had speared him leapt on the ledge of the hole Ekuar had shaped in the wall. 

“Filth, disease!” he spat. “You can’t escape! After me, more will come!” 

“I don’t think they will,” Ekuar growled. Suddenly the hole sealed up, crushing the troll into a mass of bloody pulp that coursed down the wall. 

“Vaya?” Swift asked. 

“She chose,” Kahvi said. “She’s gone.” 

“No!” Pike gasped as he tore himself away from Rain’s healing hands. “Swift, you have to save her!” 

“Ekuar – open the wall!” Swift snapped. “Rayek–” 

“Ready!” 

Ekuar touched the wall and it opened up, disgorging a mess of troll bones and flesh. The moment the wall opened, Rayek sprang through the hole, bearing down on the trolls who were already dragging the semi-conscious Vaya away. 

**Nightfall, Strongbow.** 

Nightfall and Strongbow had already drawn back their bows. The trolls turned, hearing the sound of the rock shifting, and the two archers fired. The arrows caught them in the throats just as Rayek reached them. He scooped up Vaya and flew back towards the hole. Realization was dawning on the other trolls in the pit in stages, and crossbow bolts whizzed through the air as Rayek neared the hole. A bolt caught Rayek in the leg just as he crossed the threshold, and he cried out, dropping Vaya. One-Eye and Skywise caught her, while Ekuar sealed up the wall so close on Rayek’s heels that it seemed the rock caught around his ankles. 

“Vaya....” Pike mumbled, smiling. Rain sat Pike down and continued to heal his wound. 

“Vaya!” Skot pushed his way through the crowd. 

Vaya moaned softly, rolling over on her back. Her shoulder was lacerated, and her face was laced with several shallow cuts. But she was alive. 

“Daughter....” Kahvi whispered. She shook her head and turned away. 

“Sad... you aren’t rid of me?” Vaya croaked. 

“Ashamed... that I would have let you go.” Kahvi leaned against the cave wall for several moments, then slowly turned around. “You aren’t meant for the Palace today, I know that now.” 

“Why do I think this was your doing, sweet Wolfrider?” Vaya glanced over at Pike, now sitting patiently on the ground while Rain sealed his wound. Pike smiled wanly. 

“All right,” Rain said. “That takes care of Pike. Now... Vaya, let’s see what we can do.” 

“I’ve... never been healed before...” 

“Don’t worry,” Skot said. “His hands are... soothing as warm milk.” 

Pike kicked him. **Don’t look at my father like that!** 

 

“They’re still alive!” Redlance cried out, surprising the elves who lay idle in the lodge. “Nightfall just sent to me. They’re still alive. They’re marching on Guttlekraw’s throne chamber right now.” 

“Thank the High Ones,” Dewshine whispered. She looked across the chamber at Tyldak. He smiled back at her. 

Suntop had turned from Redlance, who was now holding Venka up in the air by her ankles, and looked at the far wall in suspicion. He swore he was getting one of his magic-feelings from the wll. “Someone... come here,” he whispered. 

“What is it?” Venka asked. “Suntop?” 

“I... oh... nevermind,” Suntop shrugged. He returned to the hearthside and sat back down. He stared at the wall absently, trying to ignore the itching feeling in the back of his head. How many minutes passed while he tried to convince himself that it was nothing. Finally Venka tapped him on the shoulder. 

**What’s wrong?** she asked him. 

**I... I feel something... in the wall. It’s my magic-feeling.** He jumped up from the hearthside. “Somebody come here, quick! The wall! Redlance, come here. Someone’s shaping the wall... trying to get in?” 

“It is Ekuar?” 

“I... I don’t know–” Suddenly the wall opened up and a gust of cold wind blew over them, pushing them back. Redlance set Suntop back, and caught up his spear. **Ekuar, is it you?** he sent, but no reply came. Redlance called aloud as he descended on the bundle of rags that lay on the ground. The thing in the sack slowly lifted its head, revealing a skeletal face with dull flat eyes. Redlance recoiled in horror. Was it even an elf? Was it even alive anymore? There were no arms under the sackcloth, no legs, just a battered torso and the empty face with its lifeless, soulless eyes. 

“High Ones have pity,” Redlance stammered. He was already reaching down to touch the bundle of flesh when he heard a cry from one of the elves. 

“Trolls!” Suntop screamed. “Kiv’s hurt!” 

“Hide cubs, hide!” Redlance shouted as he rushed back into the chamber, his spear raised. 

“Tyldak!” Dewshine cried. The trolls were everywhere, looming in the doorways, breaking through the tunnel on Redlance’s heels. A hulking creature stood against the whiteout of the snow, holding a dead wolf by the fur. The fire flickered in the wind, scattered shadows. Where was Tyldak? She couldn’t find him in the chaos. 

The trolls raced towards her, and she groped for a weapon. **Tyldak!** she sent frantically as she raised the heavy sword. 

 

Skywise ducked as the troll thrust his sword towards his vulnerable face. At the last moment, Skywise twisted away, while at the same time he swung his own troll-sword into the troll’s side. The enemy’s sword thrust straight through the armhole of his cuirass, and emerged through his helmet, narrowly missing his face. He staggered, tripped over the body of a fallen Go-Back and hit the ground. Acutely award of the sword’s edge pressing gainst his throat, Skywise came face to face with a dead Go-Back, his armour caved in from a fatal axe-blow. 

**Tam!** he sent. **Help me! I’m... I’m scared! Tam!** his mind reached across the throne chamber. **I can’t move! I need you!** 

**Fahr!** Swift’s sending reached him. **Are you hurt?** 

**No, Tam, but I don’t want to be alone!** 

Without hesitation, the answer came. **I’m coming, Fahr.** 

Skywise could only stare up at the ceiling, straining to keep his neck away from the blade of the sword. A shadow loomed overhead, just out of his line of sight. He winced, but then Swift was there, clad in metal, sliding the sword free of the armour, helping him to his feet. “Up you go. The trolls are on our backs worse than ever.” 

**Thanks, Tam,** he sent. **I... I can fight alone.** 

**You’ll never have to, Fahr. Now let’s finish what we started!** 

The chaos in the pit seemed to continue forever. With Swift at his side, Skywise waded through the carnage, slicing down trolls with the three-foot sword. Rayek’s mind cried out that he had rescued Ekuar from Two-Edge. Picknose cried out in victory as he cornered Guttlekraw behind the throne. Steadily, Swift and Skywise made their way to the door, which Rayek was struggling to lift. “Keep working!” Swift shouted. “You’ll raise the door, Rayek. Don’t worry – we’ll guard your back.” 

“We’re coming Swift!” Pike shouted. He had already cast off his wolfshead helmet, and was running towards the chieftess, flanked by Skot and Vaya in their deershead helmets. Pike and Skot cut down the trolls who threatened Swift, then took their places flanked the wolf-chief. “I know I should keep my helmet on,” Pike apologized. “But I just couldn’t hear a thing with it on over my ears." 

“Don’t worry, Pike,” Skot laughed. “It’s almost over anyway. Only a pity this war couldn’t last a little longer.” 

“It’s lasted more than long enough!” Swift shouted over the clash of metal. 

“Nooo!” they heard Guttlekraw wail. Swift turned to see the largest of the wolves from the pit, the angry alpha female, leaping into the air, jaws open. “Noo... not me! Not me...” he whimpered, feebly raising a dagger. But the wolf’s jaws sank into his arm, and the crown of elf-fingers toppled from his head. 

“Enough!” Swift shouted as the wolf ripped Guttlekraw’s arm from its socket. “The kill should be clean!” 

“Should it?” Kahvi asked. 

Swift paused, then shrugged. “No, suppose not.” 

“I can’t!” Rayek cried. “I can’t rise it any higher.” 

“You do not have to, brave one,” Ekuar urged. “It is all but ended. The war... we’ve won!” 

The wolves tore Guttlekraw into pieces. Kahvi and Vaya cut the head off the body and hoisted it high on pikes. Finally Swift released a long sigh and pulled off her helmet. Suddenly weak, she staggered over to Rayek and sank to the ground beside him. 

“Long day, huh?” she asked. 

“A bit.” 

She held out her gauntleted hand, and Rayek took it in his. “We’ve won,” Rayek said, but his voice seemed hollow. “Have we really won? Is the Palace all but ours now?” 

“I think it is,” Swift nodded. 

Rayek’s head slid onto her shoulder, and Swift wrapped her arms about him. 

 

Nightfall led the party up through Two-Edge’s tunnel, back to the lodge. “Hurry,” she called as she brought out into the sunlight. “I can’t wait to hold Redlance and tell him we’ve won.” 

“Mmph,” Pike chuckled. “That I want to see–” 

“Oh... oh please... no!” Nightfall whispered. “No!” she screamed, racing out across the snow. Pike and One-Eye raced to catch up with her, as Rain, Rayek and Ekuar continued to climb up the tunnel behind them. As they turned the corner and caught sight of the lodge, their hearts seemed to freeze in their chests. Dead wolves and trolls littered the blood-stained snow. A few Go-Backs stood in the snow, waving to the Wolfriders. “Yaaay! The warriors are back!” a child cheered. 

“Two-Spear’s Madness!” One-Eye swore. “What happened here?” 

“The wolves!” Pike cried. “Ohh... Trollhammer... and Bristlebrush... no.” 

“They made a hole in the wall,” Nightfall gasped, climbing in through the tunnel. 

“How?” Pike asked. He staggered across the snow, looking for tracks. “Ohhhh...” he whispered as he found Mekda, the mutilated elf, lying on her back, her sack half-slipped off her withered body. 

“Redlance!” Nightfall scrambled over the dead hearth towards the dead troll that lay atop Redlance’s body. **Ulm? Ulm, can you hear me?** “Oh, High Ones! Move away, cubs!” 

“The... the troll... he...screamed and fell over...” Suntop stammered. 

“The troll’s dead,” Venka said. “We can’t move him. Can... you?” 

“Tyldak!” Pike heard Dewshine scream as he entered the lodge. “Tyldak, wake up! Pike! Pike, where is Rain?” 

Pike’s eyes searched the lodge before he finally caught sight of Dewshine, hiding in the shadows by the broken bed canopy. He couldn’t make out Tyldak’s body, save for one broken wing that lay across the floor at a crooked angle. **Rain!** Pike sent. **Father! Hurry! Dewshine needs you!** 

Rain broke into the lodge a few seconds later. Scouter and Skywise appeared behind him, stunned mute by the carnage inside the cave. Rain scrambled over the bodies of the trolls. Behind him, Skywise cried “Starjumper, you made it!”and Scouter stammered out a curse as he turned over the body of a dead Go-Back. 

Pike helped Rain clear away the debris to reach Dewshine and Tyldak. The bird-elf was battered and bloodied. Both his wings were broken, and his shirt hung in tattered over his shoulders. “He... he tried to protect me...” she whispered. “But he couldn’t move... in this tight a space... with his wings. He fell... I held them off him... but he won’t wake up. They... they hit... his head... ohhh heal him, Rain!” But Rain was already deep in a healing trance. Dewshine wept miserably as Rain worked for untold minutes. Already Redlance had risen, and embraced Nightfall. Skywise and Pike were slowly propping the wounded Go-Backs up against the hearthstones. Scouter edged closer to his former lovemate, yet could not bring himself to cross the final distance. She was crying; he should comfort her. But she wasn’t crying for him. She was crying for Tyldak. 

“Don’t die...” he heard her whisper. “Please... don’t die...” 

At last Tyldak gasped, coughed weakly, and slowly opened his eyes. “Dew... shine?” 

“Tyldak!” she cried. “Lifemate! I’m here. I’m right here.” 

Lifemate. The word struck Scouter to the core. 

Rain sat back, exhausted. “Don’t... try to move, Tyldak. Your wings are still broken. But I’ve healed your internal injuries. Pike? Are there any others who are gravely wounded?” 

“None that can’t wait another few moments, Father.” 

Rain nodded. “Give me a moment, Tyldak. I’ll heal your wings as soon as my strength returns.” 

“Dewshine?” Tyldak whispered. “Are you...? Is the cub?” 

“The cub is fine,” Dewshine smiled. “We’re both safe, because of you.” 

“What... little... use I was.” 

Dewshine laughed, and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Scouter sighed miserably and turned away. He saw Kiv leaning against the hearthstone, and walked over to the Go-Back. “Hey... how’s your hip. Can I help?” Kiv bit his lip and shook his head. Still Scouter busied himself with tearing off a strip of leather with which to change Kiv’s bandage. It was better to keep busy. 

**Lree,** Tyldak sent. **You called me lifemate.** 

Dewshine burst into tears anew, and wiped at them helplessly. **Yes... I did.** 

 

Everything had changed in the span of a mere eight days. Guttlekraw was dead, and Picknose ruled as patriarch of the trolls. The Palace was reclaimed, and once again elves stood within the old halls. And a little cringing omega wolf from the troll-pits had becomes – for ever-so-brief a span of time – a High One, the mother of the Wolfriders. 

“Get out of here!” Rayek snapped at Pike and the two Go-Backs. “Great Sun, can I have no peace? I am trying to turn the Scroll of Colours!” 

“Go suck some ice!” Skot shot back as Pike obligingly chased Vaya and Skot out of the Scroll Room. When Pike tried to shush him, Skot pushed him up against the wall. “Nevermind about ol’ sourpuss there. C’mon, what about those kissing lessons, hmm?” 

“Yes, Pike,” Vaya leaned against the wall, blocking his escape route. “I’ve been practicing, but I still don’t think I have the hang of it.” 

Glancing from one lovemate to the other, Pike grinned from ear to ear. 

 

“I’ll do what I can with these trees,” Redlance explained to Strongbow as his plant-shaping magic struggled to mould the little fir tree into an elf den. “But the wood around here is soft. You may have to settle for a root-burrow den.” 

**Do what you can,** Strongbow sent. **Moonshade and I can’t live in the Palace like the younger cubs. The walls.... they’re too much like the huts of Sorrow’s End, too much like the cages of Blue Mountain.** 

“I know what you mean. One-Eye and Clearbrook want a den too. So do Rain and Moonsbreath.” 

**You and Nightfall?** 

Redlance shrugged as he continued to shape the wood. “I don’t know yet. I think we’ll try the Palace – there are more than enough rooms for us, after all. But she might just want a den and the trees and the earth, just like you.” 

 

“I think Starjumper is looking over Grandmother’s wolf,” Skywise smiled as he and Eyes High watches the wolfpack romp in the snow. “You think we might have a new litter by springtime?” 

“It couldn’t hurt,” Eyes High nodded. “Swift, Dewshine, Strongbow and Scouter are all without wolves, and I don’t know if those two wolves who were trapped with Timmain will want to bond with us.” 

Skywise’s gray eyes fell on the white wolf who stood on the sidelines, watching the pack chase each other. “Why did she become a wolf again? She only stayed with us as a High Ones for a few moments, just long enough to turn the Scroll of Colours and speak through Suntop... she could have taught us so many things.” 

“You remember what she said,” his mother reminded him. “‘I became part of this world... yet I do not yet know – is this my home... or am I a stranger? Now as I stand here, where it all began and will begin again – I have yet more lessons to learn.’ She... she has had her own quest all these years, and clearly it is not yet over.” 

“After seeing her as a High One, I don’t know how I can look on her as a wolf.” 

“I don’t know how any of us will adapt,” Eyes High smiled. “Does the Way even hold true anymore? But what I do know is that we can never hope to go back, only forward.” 

“Staring into the future with... eyes high?” Skywise teased. 

She gave him a playful shove. “Don’t get smart with your mother, cubling.” 

 

Swift stood on the hilltop, her back to the ruined palace, her eyes scanning the arctic forests. Behind her, she could hear Suntop and Venka play in the snow, their laughter combining with the excited yips and whines of Venka’s wolfcub Patch. 

Swift rubbed her chin. The backhand from Kahvi’s gauntlet still itched, but Rain had healed the wound up well. Only days ago, Kahvi had sneered at Swift’s attempt to make peace between the trolls and the elves. “I know you, wolf-chief,” she laughed in Swift’s face. “I saw you in battle. You love the taste of blood. You thirst for it.” And then she backhanded her with a closed fight, sending her reeling. 

“Now–” Kahvi began as Swift staggered, only to be silenced when Swift hit her right back. 

She heard footsteps crunching the snow, and she did not need to turn to know it was Rayek approaching her. 

“I see you finally dragged yourself out of the Palace.” 

Rayek smiled against her hair as he wrapped his arms about her. “It’s becoming harder to study when Pike, Skot and Vaya are loudly arguing over which room they want for their own. Thank the High Ones that Kahvi and the other Go-Backs seem happier to stay in their own lodge.” 

“Can you believe that we were in a fight to death just an eight-of-days ago?” 

“The trial is over,” Rayek whispered. “We true elves win. Let the blind Gliders of Blue Mountain keep their stone Scroll of Colours and their false Palace. Our children shall be High Ones.” 

“Our children...” Swift smiled. “You always promised you would give the twins the birthright they deserve. Now you’ve given them the Palace itself.” 

“Not I alone. However... if you would rather I take the credit, my lovely barbarian, I will gladly–” 

Swift elbowed him in the ribs, and Rayek responded by hugging her even closer. 

 

Dewshine sat on a rock she had painstakingly dusted free of snow, as she slowly inspected each one of her arrows. She had used the feathers of an arctic bird the Go-Backs did not a real name for in the construction of her latest arrows, and was only now satisfied that they would serve. 

She heard a little cough of someone clearing his throat. “Scouter,” she smiled when she looked up. 

Scouter looked quite sheepish as he strode closer, his hands clasped behind his back. “Uh... Dewshine, we haven’t really... had a chance to talk...” 

Dewshine slipped her arrows into her quiver, then slung it over her back. “I know. Amazing how well we have managed to avoid each other.” 

“I... uh,” Scouter brought his hands around, revealing a whittled piece of hardwood. He offered it to Dewshine, and she took it with no small amount of befuddlement. It was carved in the shape of some animal, with four legs of varying lengths, shoulders that seemed dislocated, and a tiny little head. 

“It’s a zwoot,” Scouter volunteered. “I started working on it just after we left Blue Mountain, when I thought... that perhaps you and I.... Anyway, I just finished it yesterday. I thought... the cub might like it.” 

“Thank you. I will cherish this.” 

“There is no hope for us, is there, Dewshine?” 

She shook her head sadly. 

“Do you love him?” 

“Yes.” 

“And you are happy?” 

“Very. Scouter... I’m sorry it could not work. But... but I think I’m finally starting to understand what Swift and Eyes High were trying to tell me about Recognition. It begins as nothing but a means to make cublings... but it becomes something so much more.” 

Scouter nodded. “I... I understand.” 

Dewshine got to her feet. “It will happen to you one day. But now... I hope you bear me no ill will. Nor Tyldak.” 

“I can’t pretend I’m not jealous. But I know I have to let you go.” 

Dewshine embraced him, then turned her head aside, subtly, when Scouter tried to kiss her. Scouter nodded, smiled bashfully, then turned and walked back towards the Palace. 

Dewshine watched him disappear through the trees. He would always be her dear friend, but she knew now that she could never see him as a lovemate again. 

A rustle shook the pine needles on the soft branches overhead, and Tyldak folded his wings against his chest as he dropped down to the snow. “Did I see Scouter leaving?” 

She turned to her new lifemate. “We have made peace with our parting. He... he gave me a little toy for the cub.” She held up the wooden zwoot, then giggled at Tyldak’s puzzled frown, and tucked it into the pocket of her winter coat. “It’s a zwoot. One day we’ll fly to Sorrow’s End and you can see a real one.” 

He held out his hand. **Lree.** 

She took it, and Tyldak drew her into his arms. She hugged his shoulders tightly as he beat his wings and lifted them both off the ground. The branches of the pine trees brushed against their shoulders, and suddenly they were above the trees, soaring higher into the air.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out the full EQ Alternaverse at http://www.janesenese.com/swiftverse


End file.
